


When I Was Older

by curiousquandry



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Desire, Desperation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feeling emotional, If you want - Freeform, No Dialogue, Not a whole lot but if your squint, One Shot, PWP, Public Sex, Self-Insert, Sex, Smut, So I guess you can, Stand Alone, Temperature Play, Unnamed OC - Freeform, Unrequited Love, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, just a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 09:30:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18140441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiousquandry/pseuds/curiousquandry
Summary: "She knew why he was here, the heaviness of his gaze left little to be imagined. His intentions were wicked, the path of his eyes carving a passageway of carnal desire."





	When I Was Older

**Author's Note:**

> Although I imagine my favorite iteration of Riddler, Arkham!Riddler (pre Knight), to be the one in this tale I think you can imagine your own favorite version here (Gotham!Riddler would be a fine choice as well). There's nothing strictly tying this to any particular one. There's no dialogue here as I was feeling a bit melancholy and enjoyed the contrast of a silent fic about Edward who usually can't stop talking. Also, no connection to my other fic about the Riddler. Enjoy.

A business trip to a sister city had brought her here, to a luxurious hotel pool in the dead of night. The only bright side had been the complete solitude her insomnia had allowed her enjoy the water in. Perhaps that was why she was surprised that he had found her.

She could feel his shadow near the edge of the water and when she reached the other side of the pool she cracked open her eyes to see him.

She saw his legs move, the shine of his shoes reflecting in the artificial light. His shadow moved away from the waters edge and toward the small cluster of wrought iron tables and chairs that resided next to the pool.

She knew why he was here, the heaviness of his gaze left little to be imagined. His intentions were wicked, the path of his eyes carving a passageway of carnal desire.

Strangely, they rarely shared words anymore, despite his reputation. There was nothing left to be said between them. The wreckage of their courtship had been so utterly devastating it left nothing but base desire.

Sometimes when the mood shifted, his eyes would twinkle mischievously, as if he had something clever to say. But the urge never came to satisfaction. She was easily spooked, easily reminded of what he was, of what he had done. Their remaining relationship was so tenuous it was better to say nothing at all, to remain silent and let their bodies do the communicating.

She pulled herself up and out of the pool. Water ran off her skin, pooling to the cement floor as she slowly stepped toward him. He leaned back in the wrought iron chair he had pulled up, lounging as he watched her come to him.

He pulled her into his lap, ignoring the water dripping off her skin to ruin his silk shirt and dress pants. Whatever the cost she was worth it. The release, the satisfaction of their union was something truly unique, irreplaceable.

He pressed his lips to her neck, tasting the salt of her skin and the musk of chlorine. The heat of his lips felt like fire against her flesh. It was always so sweet, that first rush of dopamine at his touch. It washed away all of her reservations and self hatred, cleansing her of all the doubts. An ultimate answer to why she never said no.

He could feel it too, the way she relaxed into his touch, softening to his liking. Then the game would really begin. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her legs apart to straddle him. He was hard of course, he had been since he had first seen her in the pool. It was almost involuntary at that point, her body a siren song of desire.

He slid his hand up her back, plucking the string of her top and pulling the bow loose. She swallowed as he ran his hands up toward her shoulders and tugged the halter top loose as well. The fabric fell forward, wet and heavy. He stroked her back, his hands so warm against her wet skin. She let her head fall back, enjoying the contrast of signals her body was sending her. She was very nearly close to shivering but was held back by the pure heat of his body. His hands, his lips were like a fire blazing across ice.

He would tease her like this forever if she let him. Sometimes she would allow him to explore, to open her up and put her back together again for hours even, her flesh aching when the deed was finally done. But she had no patience on that night. She pressed her hand against his chest and gently pushed him so his back met the chair. He stared up at her, enraptured as she hooked her fingers under the buttons of his decidedly expensive dress shirt. The emerald green silk slid across his chest as she freed him of the garment, revealing his white undershirt. She slid her hands underneath, feeling the heat of his skin as she pulled the half wet cotton shirt over his head.

And finally she was able to press herself against him, skin to skin. She shivered as her nipples met the warmth of his chest, her skin prickling at the sudden change in temperature. He stretched up to place his lips to her own, a rarity in itself. It was so intimate that she nearly pulled away, a bubble of doubt and perhaps fear rising past the rush of dopamine.

As if sensing her turmoil, he rocked his hips upward. The firmness of his own desire served as a reminder as to why they were there, a reassurance of sorts. She softened into his touch again, deepening the kiss almost greedily. Her hands wandered on their own accord, her cool touch skating over the scraggly hairs of his chest, the smooth plain of his back and finally reaching down to tug at the button to his pants.

He broke the kiss and closed his eyes as she leaned back to release him from the confines of his trousers. He nearly cried out as she rocked her hips forward to grind herself against his cock. It had been too long since they had been together. He wasn't sure how long he would last if he let her have control. He snaked his hands around her back once more, stopping her from moving as best he could.

He opened his eyes to see her glaring down at him, frustrated. He couldn't keep a smirk from sliding across his face before he pressed forward, capturing a nipple in his mouth. She gasped and grasped at the metal arms of the chair. His mouth was so hot, his tongue blazing a course across the erect skin of her nipple. His hands dug into her sides as she tried to move against his cock. The tension in her loins was building, a steady thrum of desire spreading between her legs. This is exactly where he wanted her, he dreamed about these moments, the involuntarily plea for resolution, a cry for him to solve her.

And solve her he would, it was base but utterly satisfying when finally he let his hand slip off his back and into her swim bottoms, the coolness of the fabric a stark contrast of the burning heat coming from between her legs. He drew circles against her clit, slowly building the intensity as she began to squirm on top of him. Sometimes he would make her beg for the first release, dragging it along for as long as possible before finally allowing her the satisfaction. He loved it, the control he could wield over her in their little tenuous escapades.

But tonight was not a night for begging, there was no time for that. And so he continued, watching as her eyes closed and waited for the inevitable shaking between her legs, the flutter of her orgasm against his fingers. She was especially beautiful on that night, her teeth worrying against her lips as she came, trying desperately not to cry out as she rocked against him. He didn't wait for his spasms to subside before pressing her swimwear to the side and sliding inside of her.

A groan slipped past his own lips as he pressed up into her, her walls still twitching from her release. She pressed her hands against his shoulders, rocking forward at her own pace, desperately chasing the end of her orgasm, those last throws of pleasure before relaxing against him. She stared down at him, her eyes half lidded as he slowly rocked her hips against him, his hands firmly at her waist once more.

He would not last long but it didn't matter on that night, there would be another. There would always be another. He whispered her name as he came, his fingers pressing so deeply into her flesh that she was sure to have bruises but she did not flinch away. They stayed intertwined for a few moments, eyes closed, savoring the dopamine flush as their breath slowly returned.

If he was a better man, a healthier man, he could truly have her the way he desired. But for the time being, this was the lot they shared, the odd encounter here and there when the need came due. The overflow of desire solved in the heat they shared for that shining sliver of time. And then the mutual parting of ways, with hardly a word to spare between them. A return to their parallel existences, with only a memory and the chance of a fading mark upon skin to remind them of their convergence.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed that little piece of writing. I was a bit bored and discovered "When I Was Older" by Billie Eilish and basically wrote this whole thing while listening on repeat. Didn't make much time to edit it as it was really just a practice piece. Sorry if it's a bit sad.


End file.
